


overflow.

by lewduigi



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Connor, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has a Penis, Cussing, Dominance, Exhibitionism, Fetish Clothing, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Other, Reader-Insert, Sex Party, Submission, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 00:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15740388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lewduigi/pseuds/lewduigi
Summary: When the RK800 prototype introduced to the Detroit Police Department in the summer of 2038 is assigned to your Red Ice case, you cannot be more thrilled. Over the next week, the two of you must uncover an expansive drug deal taking place in the middle of the Garden, one of the most secretive sex parties in Detroit. How far will you go to crack this case, and how far will Connor follow?





	overflow.

“Jesus, you’re taking my partner from me?”

“Borrowing, Lieutenant. I’m borrowing him. It’ll only be for a week.” You reply.

You notice a detective from a neighboring desk remove an earbud as he stares intensely at his terminal: a thinly veiled attempt to listen in on what might become another one of Lieutenant Hank Anderson’s irritated outbursts at work. You don’t blame him; you’d be doing the same thing if you weren’t the second half of the conversation.

“Why can’t you take one of those?” he asks, jerking his head towards the android parking station past his desk. A few PC200s and PM700s stand idle in their spots, awaiting orders. It’s surprising, you honestly thought an android-hater like Anderson would be happy to hear this news.

You shrug, “I don’t know what to tell ya, Lieutenant; I’ve gotten expressed permission from Cyberlife. They want to test how well he ‘integrates into different team environments’ or something.” You feign a casual tone, trying desperately not to let on that you practically memorized the email you received and poured over all morning. “Besides, those androids are nothing like yours.”

“Christ.” He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms, “they make me work with a fuckin’ android when I hate em’ and when I can finally watch him lick the evidence without hurling, they want him somewhere else,” he mutters. It’s at this point that you notice a lack of the “BAN ANDROIDS” stickers that decorated his desk; the spaces where they once were now sport remnants of poorly removed adhesive vinyl. Now that you think about it, the Lieutenant hadn’t called Connor his “partner” when the Captain first forced the two to work together a month ago. This android must really be something if he can make Anderson of all people less hostile.

“Look,” you sigh, “It’s just for the week. I’ll keep him out of trouble. And when I’m done with this case, I’ll buy you lunch as thanks. Deal?”

He raises his eyebrows at you, silently considering your offer.

“I’m gonna hold you to that, kid.”

Something catches his eye behind you, and before you can look for yourself, he calls out, “Hey Connor, looks like I don’t have to be your babysitter this week.”

You turn and find yourself face to face with the unmistakable RK800 prototype. “Ah, You must be the Detective.” He says, his tone smooth and cool like stone. “My name is Connor. Cyberlife has informed me that I’ve been assigned to you for the duration of your investigation.”

You have never seen an android quite like Connor. With his slicked back dark hair, suit jacket, and strong jawline, he certainly has to be one of the sharpest looking androids you’ve ever seen. He looks professional and analytical, but still approachable, and, dare you say it, quite handsome.

While you usually read up on every detail about Cyberlife’s latest models, little was released to the public regarding the RK800. The only detail the company shared was that he would be the first android to have direct involvement in police investigations. Like a service dog to the old man, Connor kept to Anderson’s side in the homicide division while you worked on Detroit’s narcotics cases, leaving little opportunity for you to learn more up close. Honestly, their partnership made you a bit jealous; being able to connect with such a high-tech android on a daily basis sounded like a dream come true to you. So when you found out Connor had been tasked with helping you with your latest undercover mission, you couldn’t have been any more excited.

“It’s great to finally meet you Connor.” You say, bringing your hand out in front of you. He seems slightly caught off guard by your gesture, but takes your hand into a firm handshake nonetheless. You wonder if he can register your heart pounding from here.

“Hey, before you take him,” the Lieutenant interjects, “just remember that he’s like a fuckin’ puppy: he’ll follow ya everywhere even if ya tell him to stay, and he’ll put anything in his mouth. I’m surprised he’s even housebroken.” He chuckles.

You let out a nervous half-laugh. “Thanks for the heads up, Lieutenant.” You don’t entirely know what he means by, “he’ll put anything in his mouth”, and you’re not sure you want to find out.

With your new android in tow, you grab the case file from your desk before heading out for the evening. Outside, the August air is warm and humid, a nice change from being inside the AC-pumped precinct all day. You recognize the bright stickers that decorate the rear of your car from across the lot: an assortment of band logos, graphics for indie businesses you’ve bought from, and the occasional nonsensical slogan.

“I’m picking up dinner for us, my treat.” you say as you both hop in the car, “What’re you hungry for?”

“Nothing. I don’t eat.” He replies matter-of-factly.

You realize that you’ve just uttered an android equivalent of saying “you too” to the usher telling you to “enjoy the movie”. Yikes. Not even half an hour into interacting with your first android and you’re already embarrassing yourself. “Right. Chinese it is then.” You pull out of the lot and start heading towards home.

After a few minutes of picking the right playlist for the ride, you try to break the ice. “So. What have you been told about the case?” You ask.

“We’ve been given information to suggest that a massive Red Ice deal will be occurring amidst a semi-annual BDSM play party called the Garden, thrown by the owner of the Eden Club. We have been assigned to infiltrate the party at his penthouse to intercept the operation and arrest the perpetrators.” Jesus, he sounds like a walking case file.

“Sounds about right. And have you been told how we’re doing that?”

“The plan is to arrive undercover as guests, identify the time and place of the deal, and once the Red Ice is located, inform backup and proceed with the arrest.”

“And you know you’re posing as my personal android, right? Like, we can’t walk in there with your Ace Detective Android outfit on. Cyberlife provided me with a different outfit to give you.”

“Yes, I’m aware. I’ll be acting as a CX100: an intimate partner model.”

“Great! that’s really the gist of it.”

You pull up to your local chinese takeout place a few blocks from your building. You consider inviting Connor inside to wait inside with you, but think twice when you see the “No Androids Allowed” sign taped to the door. You place and collect your order before returning to the car.

The rest of the drive to your apartment is silent, except for the sounds of the world outside the car and the mellow music playing from your speakers. When you pull into the parking lot, the sun has begun to set, casting your apartment complex in a warm orange glow. You buzz in and head to the elevator, Connor following suit.

“Hey, hold the elevator!” You see a figure run up to the closing doors. As you dart to mash the “Open Door” button, you see Connor’s arm jut out, propping them open manually. You recognize the tall, lanky individual as he joins you two in the elevator as your neighbor.

“Oh, hi Mark.” You say.

“Hey hey. Thanks for holding the door.” He replies. He turns to Connor, lighting up immediately. “And who’s this strapping fella? Finally join the android club?” He asks, eyeing your companion.

“Oh, this is Connor.” You say, “He’s from work, actually. He’s helping me on a case. Connor, this is my friend Mark from the fifth floor.”

“Pleasure.” Connor nods.

“Hold up. Is this  _the_ Connor? The one you won’t shut up about?” Mark turns back to you, a sly grin stretching across his face, “How long do you have him for? If you’ve got time, me’n Maxine are getting ours together for another playdate. We’d love if if you two stopped by.” He winks. Before you can object, the elevator opens to the fifth floor. “I’ll text you the deets!” He calls as the doors close.

“You’ve mentioned me, Detective?” You can see him shooting you an inquisitive look.

“Don’t worry about it.” You mutter, keeping your eyes fixed on the floor.

The two of you step out of the elevator and make a beeline for your apartment. After fidgeting with the old lock, the door opens up to a small, weathered living room. It’s quite modest, with its most notable features being the posters covering the space above the dilapidated couch and the packed bookshelf next to it. The wall across holds a sizable television standing atop a low TV stand. Its cubbies are filled with game consoles and assorted equipment. The open kitchen area immediately to the left of the door is significantly bare, with its only flair being the colorful alphabet magnets on the fridge spelling out even more colorful language.

“It’s not much, but it’s home.” You say, dropping the bag of chinese takeout on the counter. “It’s a rental, so I don’t do much in terms of decorating, but I spice it up where I can.”

“Very quaint, Detective.” Connor says, scanning the room with an inquisitive eye. You wonder what kinds of information he’s gleaning from your interior decorating skills alone.

“Make yourself at home.” You pull your order of fried rice from the brown paper bag. “And while you’re at it, feel free to take a look at the case file.” You gesture to the manilla folder beside you before turning to your cupboard for a glass. “You seem like you have it all up in your super computer brain, but sometimes a hard copy is nice.”

He ambles over from your bookshelf and leafs through the folder. “The operation is quite straightforward, isn’t it?” He asks. “Go in, find the deal, report it, and get out. But you seem… uneasy about going through with it. May I ask why?”

“Well, to be honest,” You say, picking at your meal with a pair of chopsticks, “I’ve never worked with an android before. I’ve always wanted to, but never got the opportunity. So this is new to me. And this is a pretty, uh, personal mission to be on with someone I just met.”

“The circumstances certainly are unlike any case I’ve been a part of myself,” He replies, “but I’m confident we’ll accomplish our task. I hope that I can make this new experience for you a positive one.” His voice is soft and, to your surprise, rather genuine. You look up from your food, and meet his gaze. You didn’t think an android could seem quite so warm and endearing. A pang of heat flashes across your face.

“Thanks, Connor. I appreciate that.” You look away from his brown eyes and focus back on your meal. “But I also don’t think you know exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into. The Eden Club is known for its discretion, and this Garden party is no different. That’s why such a massive Red Ice deal is able to happen in the middle of it.” You eat a mouthful of rice before continuing. “We’re not first to try and bust it. Cops never get past the front door, and if they do, it doesn’t take long until they’re found out.”

“And that’s because…?” Connor asks.

“Well, none of them ever know the rules, so they stick out like a sore thumb. To give them credit, they’re pretty secret to keep outsiders and newbies away. Basically, every person who attends needs to bring an android, and they can’t be police or other public service models. Everything else is usually fair game.”

“So, your concern is getting caught before even getting in?”

You sigh. “No, I’m willing to bet that since your prototype is so new, you won’t get recognized as a police model, especially if you’re dressed up. What I’m nervous about is that once inside, you have to take part in some sort of play; you can’t just watch.”

“Ah, I see.” He blinks. The air suddenly feels thick.

“Yeah. So, Keeping up appearances at this party might mean some uh, close contact, for lack of a better phrase. Not between us. I mean, not _necessarily_ between us, but people get touchy at these parties, especially with the androids. I want to make sure you’re aware of that. I’ll be fine, but seeing as you’re completely new to this, I don’t want to step over any boundaries if I can help it.”

“While I appreciate your concern, Detective, boundaries won’t be an issue. I’ll do what I have to for the sake of the investigation; it’s in my programming.”

Wow. That was straight to the point. Could he really be so unphased? It makes you wonder just how far he’d be willing to go. Would he actually do anything at the party?

Anything with you?

You push the thought out of your mind. “Good to know,” is all you can think to say. You’ll try and revisit this conversation later, you decide.

He watches you eat in silence for a bit before speaking again. “How do you know so much about this party Detective?”

You were hoping he wouldn’t ask that. “I just do my research, I guess.” You croak, your eyes boring into your food.

Connor watches you intently. “Do you listen to a lot of music, Detective?” He asks. “I noticed you have an extensive library on your phone.”

You certainly weren’t expecting him to ask any personal questions, but you’re glad to get off of the topic of The Garden. Surely it’s his programming just trying to collect information to cater to your personality, but you appreciate his curiosity nonetheless; it’s better than solely talking about the investigation. You answer his questions, tell him about your time at the DPD, and learn all about Connor’s adventures with Lieutenant Anderson in the past month. You watch him roll a coin across his fingers like it’s nothing, a rather individualized way of calibrating physical and mental cognitive ability. He discusses his analytical skills that involve tasting evidence at crime scenes, which is a bit weird, but makes Anderson’s comment at the precinct make a lot more sense. Hours go by, and before you know it, the two of you have been talking past midnight.

“It’s getting late.” You say, looking at your watch. “I don’t know if you’ve got a place to uh, ‘power down’ for the night, but you’re welcome to my couch.”

“If you would prefer I stay here for the duration of the investigation, I have no objections.”

“Great.” You shrug, “Feel free to get comfortable.” You unceremoniously excuse yourself to the bathroom.

When you emerge, you notice that Connor isn’t in the living room anymore. You look across the hall, and find him standing in the middle of your bedroom instead, his back to the doorway.

“You truly know quite a lot about the Detroit sex scene, don’t you Detective?” He calls, flicking at the suction cup dildo sticking off of the large bookshelf in the corner. A full spectrum of toys, leather equipment, pornography, and more condoms than you know what to do with fill the structure from end to end: an inventory that would put the Museum of Sex to shame.

“Yeah!” you try to compose yourself as you step into the room, ignoring your heart pounding out of your chest, “What tipped you off? The framed pictures of me whipping dudes in masks or that one shelf just dedicated to vibrators?” You swallow your embarrassment as best as you can and join him next to your shrine of sex memorobilia.

“This is quite the collection you have here. Some of these items are rather expensive.” He glances over to you.

“How do you know that? Collecting some yourself?” You jab.

“No,” Connor says matter-of-factly, “I looked up the prices while you were in the bathroom.”

“Oh.”

“I’m beginning to truly understand why you were assigned to this case, Detective.” You glance over at him and see the faintest smug grin across his lips.

“Hey!” You exclaim, “I’ll have you know that my job and my personal life are very separated.

  
Connor raises a skeptical eyebrow at you. “Okay, listen.” You stammer, “I’ve never been to a Garden party before; I don’t own an android. But a friend of mine does. He’s the one who tipped me off to the rules. Sure, my uh, extensive knowledge of the general Detroit scene might be useful, but knowing the Garden etiquette is what got me here.”

“I see.” He responds, his eyes flicking back to you, “Well, regardless, I think this mission will be far more interesting than I originally estimated.” He smirks, and takes one last scan of the shelf before turning on his heels towards the hall. “Good night, Detective.” He says smoothly before retiring to the couch.

You think you’re beginning to realize why the Lieutenant used to refer to Connor as a 'plastic prick'.

**Author's Note:**

> What's up you Connor-loving fucks, thanks for reading! I will try to get Chapter Two up in the next few weeks, I promise it'll get steamier from there.
> 
> It feels so good to finally start posting this somewhere!


End file.
